Grass lawns have to be the stupidest thing we've come up with outside of thong
swimsuits; we constantly battle dandelions, Queen Anne's lace, thistle, violets, chicory
and clover that thrive naturally, so we can grow grass that must be nursed through an
annual four-step chemical dependency.

Imagine the conversation The Creator might have with St. Francis about this:

"Frank, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down
there in the Midwest? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I
started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any
type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the
long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I
expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green
rectangles."

"It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling
your flowers 'weeds' and went to great extent to kill them and replace them with
grass."

"Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies,
birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these
Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?"

"Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They
begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the
lawn."

"The spring rains and cool weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must
make the Suburbanites happy."

"Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it - sometimes twice
a week."

"They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?"

"Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags"

"They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?"

"No, sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away."

"Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it
does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?"

"Yes, sir."

"These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain
and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work."

"You aren't gonna believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they
drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to
get rid of it."

"What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of
genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and
shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to
keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves
form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life."

"You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as
the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and have them hauled away."

"No! What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and keep
the soil moist and loose?"

"After throwing away your leaves, they go out and buy something they call mulch.
They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves."

"And where do they get this mulch?"

"They cut down trees and grind them up."

"Enough. I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in
charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?"